moving into position. Nazari is holding on to a cell phone set to detonate the bombs if the Pentagon doesn’t agree to his terms. Even if a sniper takes him out, he might have time to hit the send button and the bombs could explode.”
Fear trembled through her, came out as a breath of white in the freezing air. So many lives at stake, hundreds of them. Ty and Hallie and the children. Brandon. Her heart squeezed. “What are you going to do?”
“We’re setting up a signal that can block cell service for a mile in any direction.” Ramirez’s jaw hardened. “Nazari can hit the button, but the signal won’t go through.”
“How long will that take?”
“They’re working on it.” He looked at her hard. “You believe in God?”
She managed to nod.
“You might ask for a little help. We’ll need all we can get to make this work.”
Ramirez strode away, and Jessie started praying.
* * *
Using the tail of his Henley to muffle his voice, Bran hit the call button on the terrorist’s phone, putting him in contact with whoever picked up on the other end.
“The phones do not work well down here,” he said in Arabic, tapping the cell and distorting the words so his voice couldn’t be identified. “I will check, make sure there are no problems.”
He killed the line. He’d bought a little time, not much. It wouldn’t be long before they figured out half their men were dead.
He pushed open the service elevator doors and looked inside. The cage waited above, doors open on the gate level. He lifted the strap of his assault rifle over his head and set the gun on the floor, along with the extra magazine, pulled his jacket on to cover his weapons and the blood on his clothes.
Shoving his way into the elevator shaft, he climbed hand over hand up the side to the upper level, then lay on his stomach and crawled on top of the cage. Quietly lifting away the emergency exit panel gave him a bird’s-eye view of the concourse.
He could see two of the four remaining terrorists, knew there were two more out of sight. He scanned the area and found Ty sitting on the floor behind a row of seats next to Hallie, the kids tucked between them, opposite the open elevator doors.
Ramirez had kept him informed. SWAT would be arriving any minute, dispersing quietly below, getting ready to make their assault. A perimeter had been set up outside, snipers had at least two of the terrorists in their sights.
Army Special Forces were being helicoptered in, but they wouldn’t get there in time. Men from the Alamo Depot had been dispatched to handle the munitions—assuming the terrorists weren’t able to explode them.
His phone vibrated. “It’s a go,” Ramirez said.
Everything happened at once. Shots slammed through the big plate glass windows and passengers screamed as two of the terrorists went down to sniper fire. People started running. SWAT burst onto the floor through the equipment-room doors, firing a barrage of bullets, taking the other two terrorists out.
It was over in minutes. If the leader had pushed the button to set off the explosives, it had been blocked.
Bran jumped down through the open panel in the elevator roof. Just outside the open doors, police swarmed the gate area, shouting orders, herding terrified passengers away from the scene to safety.
Bran spotted Ty and strode toward him, shouldering his way through the mass of humanity rushing to get out of the terminal.
He glanced around. Police and SWAT were everywhere, a group of them directing people down the concourse toward the exits. The bomb squad had arrived. Apparently the devices were rudimentary because the explosives were defused in minutes. Still, it was going to take hours to get the airport back up and running.
“Come on,” Bran said as he reached his friend. “We’re getting out of here.” Ramirez and the mass of law enforcement descending on the building wouldn’t like it, but he and Ty had done their part. The rest was just cleanup.
Lifting Chris, Bran set the little boy in his wheelchair while Ty swung Sarah up on his shoulders and reached down for Hallie’s hand. Their carry-on luggage sat forlornly a few feet away, but getting to safety was more important.
Bran pushed the wheelchair into the service elevator, and as soon as everyone was inside, he closed the doors. Hallie hit the button for the lower level, and the hydraulic motor started whining its decent.